


White House Communications Director

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Character Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-02-03
Updated: 2001-02-03
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:11:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Different people of the West Wing reflect on their lives so far.





	White House Communications Director

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

 

RATING: G  
NOTES: New series. See Part One.  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the West Wing or any of its related   
characters. Don't sue.   
SUMMARY: Different people of the West Wing reflect on their lives so   
far.

For crying out loud, this has to be done right. This is our third   
address and I can't sit still long enough to get a single sentence   
written down. I'm nervous and I'm agitated. There's so much on my   
mind. I feel like the world is crashing down on my shoulders.  
Just another normal day.   
When I was in fourth grade, there were so many things that I   
wanted to do with my life, but because I wouldn't say that damn   
prayer, those boys just... They beat the idealism out of me.   
Today, I have the power to possibly bomb the hell out of those   
bastards if they're even still alive. My brother helped me find   
ambition again, but then that got messed up as well. I don't seem to   
have the best track record for personal relationships.  
Maybe that's why I never try for them anymore.   
What a wonderful career for an anti-social like me. I get to   
interact with ass-holes for a living and in the meantime, I get to   
slave over speeches that Bartlet is going to "polish" on his feet   
anyway. There is only one speech that he never polishes and that's   
the one I'm working on this minute. He never polishes the State of   
the Union. I've got to write this thing and I need to do it well. The   
only problem is that the only thing I can think about every time I   
sit down to write is the sound of those infernal gunshots and people   
screaming. I can see Josh's blood on my hands and I see that the   
current state of the union is such that teenagers can get their hands   
on guns and then shoot at me and my friends.  
I can't write that.  
When I married Andy, I was a happy young man looking to escape   
the past, fly into the future and make a difference. What an arrogant   
little pissant I was. I was worse than Sam is now. The marriage   
killed me inside and then losing all the campaigns I'd worked on   
killed me even more. The pissant died and here I am, trying to hang   
on to the man that I've become.   
Who is that man, I wonder? Am I just some old, grumpy,   
drunken "political operative" or whatever the hell it is that I do?   
Who am I? God, I don't even know any more. I feel so lost, and yet I   
compensate by being a leader. I'd never let them know it, but the   
people here are the ones that keep me going. If CJ, Josh, Leo, yes   
even Sam, were not in my life, I wouldn't be anything at all, I   
believe. Arguing with CJ, yelling at Sam, sharing with Josh,   
discussing issues with Leo... It all keeps me going.   
This place is my life.   
I wish my father could see me now. He told me that writing would   
get me nowhere, that no one wanted to listen to someone like me push   
my ideas on to them. He was always so proud of David, proud of his   
son the scientist, the astronaut. David was in space when Dad died.   
Despite everything, I went to that man on his deathbed and I bit my   
tongue when he asked me where David was.   
My father was a brave man. He fought in Korea as well as Vietnam.   
The Vietnam War ended the year I turned eighteen. My father somehow   
found a way to accuse me of orchestrating it so that I could get out   
of serving my country. Man, that guy was strange.  
The funny thing is, I loved him anyway. He was my father and I   
loved him. My mother was a sweet woman for as long as I knew her. She   
died about three years before dad did, a peaceful smile upon her   
face. David was there that time. She never played favorites; I   
believe she loved the three of us equally... She loved the three of   
us with all of her heart. She was a good woman, a great person and a   
wonderful mother.   
I could use her right now.  
Okay, Ziegler, let's just think about this. Let's just put the   
words down and edit them later. I can do that. I'm allowed. I can do   
it... No. No, I can't. The sounds keep flooding back into my head.   
It's been months, I know. It's just the thought of this speech and   
its impact...  
I can't write about that.   
Josh seems to be doing better. He's not yelling at everyone. Just   
at me and at Donna, but that's normal. That's Josh. Now that just   
leaves everyone else. Especially me.   
Actually the one I'm really worried about is CJ. That night she   
was so out of it and traumatized; ever since then she has not been   
the same CJ that I've known for so long. I know that such a thing   
like that can change a person but still, I'm not used to this new CJ.   
She's a little bitterer, a little tougher and even a bit more   
defensive. Of course, she's had reason to be.  
The shooting changed me too, needless to say. I can't believe   
some of the stupid things I've been doing recently. What I did to CJ   
on the Ann Stark thing was the stupidest thing that I have ever done.   
The only thing I can figure is that since the shooting, I've been   
feeling a greater dependency on my friends, which has thrown my   
judgment of trust way off. I trusted Ann when I shouldn't have and I   
didn't trust CJ when I should have. I messed up royally and it cost   
us. We got hit because of me.   
No wonder CJ is bitterer, tougher and more defensive. I betrayed   
her for my own ego.  
Life is slowly coming back to normal though. Leo isn't mad at me   
any more, the President is talking to me again and CJ doesn't shoot   
me dirty looks every time I enter the room any more. Josh just made   
me swear to be on his side the next time he screws up and Sam hasn't   
said much of anything about it at all. Sam has his own reasons to be   
mad at me though. I don't understand them, mind you. I did my job and   
that I will stand by. He's got to get used to the fact that I'm his   
boss and I am allowed to make those decisions. I know that's my ego   
talking again, but I also know that I was right.  
In the meantime, I'm staring at the blank computer screen and if   
I had any hair, I'd be pulling it out right now. I honestly feel like   
my life is flashing before my eyes. I'm not sure that I'm happy with   
what I see either. I see a nine-year-old kid being beat up in a   
schoolyard. I see my political science teacher yelling in my ear. I   
see myself slamming into CJ on some college campus from the past. I   
see myself losing one job after another. I see myself fighting with   
my father until he gets so angry, he breaks a glass with his hand and   
now he's bleeding, and then I see myself fighting with David. I see   
myself on the ground in Rosslyn, being trampled by screaming,   
frightened people while bullets are screaming through the air...   
Josh's blood... So much screaming.   
I can't tell anybody about this stuff. There's no one around to   
talk to about it. These people, my friends, they wouldn't understand   
it coming from me. From Josh, or maybe CJ, it might be expected, but   
I've spent so much of the past few years keeping to myself just being   
the quiet, secluded... misunderstood genius in the office down the   
hallway. They probably wouldn't believe me if I did tell them about   
all these memories.   
But it's interfering with my work, with my life. It's affecting   
my judgment for sure, and whatever people skills I may have ever had   
are definitely being shot to flames. I feel like my life is coming to   
an end, like I'm heading for some dismal closure. God, I'm   
depressed... or couldn't you tell?  
There is a lot to be thankful for though. I have my friends   
around me. I have a good steady job that I enjoy and that I'm told I   
do well at. I make a difference in the grand scheme of things. My   
relationship with David is not as bad as it once was, before the   
shooting and the astro-newt fiasco. Josh is alive and no longer   
bleeding. The President is alive. Charlie and Zoey are still together   
despite it all. Things are relatively good...   
That I can write about.

*******************

  


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